I Hate You, Moriarty
by AlekFoxx
Summary: The doctor wouldn't deny it. He liked sex. What kind of human didn't? Carnal desires fulfilled with a passion for the act of premarital coitis. But it was always better when it was soaking with hatred. Edit: ... Because I've gotten more than one request on Tumblr and one here, I'm going to make this little hatesex drabbles to be updated whenever.


In his current scenario, John was splayed out on a bed, thick leather straps binding his wrists, hooked to tow chains just lax enough to let his arms rest against the table he was bound to. His legs were widespread, ankles and knees also strapped, though the chains that held the leather cuffs were much thinner, more like bicycle chains, which were connected to an adjustable bar. A butt plug was buried his ass deep, a leather blindfold tightly secured over his eyes, disabling his vision. But with as much training as the former army doctor had, he learned how to strengthen a sense when he lost one, listening as Jim prepared whatever it was he doing.

A lighter audibly sparked, John's brow furrowed. He jerked his wrists, the tight straps around them digging into his skin, thick chains clanking and rattling obnoxiously. He grunted and arched as he felt hot wax spatter against his skin. He heard something clasp shut, a slight warmth mere inches away from the center of his chest.

"I hate you, Moriarty," he spat, listening closely as he heard clothing shuffle, drawers opening, things being removed and set around John on empty space. The comment earned a chuckle.

"That's why you come to me, isn't it? To get your passion for pain out once every couple of weeks?" That Irish drawl… John snarled softly, brows knitting once more. Another few droplets and he arched, grunting again. "Oh, wait… It hasn't been every couple of weeks as of late. It's been almost every _night._"

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point, Johnny boy? Sherly just not cutting it for you lately?"

John wasn't able to reply fast enough when he felt two slick fingers press into his hole with the plug, letting out a low, "oh God", his hips pushing against the long digits and the toy. Cold fingers pressed against his jawline and forced his head to the side, unclasping the strap that held the blindfold on, fingers quickly slipping beneath it and flipping it off.

"I want to see the lust in your eyes, Doctor Watson. I will make you _scream_."

John's eyes flickered open as he heard the formal title, looking at Jim. As usual, the man bore a twisted grin, dark eyes fogged over more than usual. His suit jacket was hung on the back of a chair, tie lay disregarded on the seat. The pristine white button down was unbuttoned all the way, pale, unsurprisingly hairless chest visible in the fluorescent lighting.

John's eyes made their way lower. There was a slight trail of hair above the band of his pants, but it was kept well groomed, which was another thing that didn't surprise the doctor. But he knew what he wanted. It wasn't until recently that he'd realized he wanted it more. A generally dominant man craving to be the one who was dominated. Then again, the blogger seemed to understand that when it came down to James Moriarty, no one had more control than he.

Jim's fingers started twisted and pumping with the toy again, making John moan out and arch. He pushed his hips against the hand, his head thudding loudly against the table.

"I hate you so much…" John slurred out, feeling his cock twitch, pre beginning to pool on his stomach.

"But you love my cock," Jim returned, winking as he hooked his fingers before working them deeper.

"That's beside the point," the older replied, eyes rolling as they became covered. That was when he felt it. More warm wax, so much more, spattering all over his chest, cooling slowly as the chilled air of the hotel room hit it. He pulled on his arm restraints more, fingers stretching and flexing to keep feeling. "Bloody hell…" The words were mixed with a soft groan and heavy pants, "Moriarty, just fuck me already."

"Such a needy little slut, aren't we?" Jim's brows rose.

"Sh-shut up…" John uttered, whining in complaint as he felt the fingers remove themselves and the plug, letting out a sharp moan when he felt the leather tails of a flogger swiftly snap against his ass.

"Don't be so rude, Johnny boy. I can drag this out far more than necessary," Jim snapped, moving and grabbing John's face, fingers digging into his skin, "don't think I won't."

John's teeth clenched, eyes glaring at Jim before he was slapped, the young, crazed man quickly returning to his position between strong thighs. He grabbed a toy he'd pulled out of the drawer, a remote controlled vibrating clit tickler. Sure, they were meant for women. Most sex toys were, but Jim had a fondness for using them on both men and women alike, each person he'd serviced in the past having their own set of toys, whips, floggers and crops.

He removed a strap that was laid out on the table, tying the bullet to John's cock, nearest the head and flipped the on switch, brows raised as he turned it up to a four out of ten automatically, John's hips jerking, his head smacking against the table as he groaned.

"Now… Let's get down to business, shall we?"

Jim flashed his grin. John let out a soft sigh in between moans as he heard the teeth of a zipper clicking and separating.

"Lift your torso."

The doctor obeyed, using the chain to lift his shoulders and back off of the table. Jim rose his hips, his own pushing the table back so John's rear rested on the edge. He felt hands spread his cheeks and shuddered as he felt the head of Jim's cock press against his hole before he pushed in roughly, burying himself to the hilt immediately.

"Th-there we go…" John uttered breathlessly, eyes rolled back again. That's what he liked about having sex with Jim; it was always rough and rather painful. What the doctor normally took when it came to pain was a good amount. Hell, he'd taken his own beatings in the bedroom before he and Jim even started fucking.

"I wonder how Sherlock would feel, Johnny. To know you come to me, seeking a rough—" Jim rutted his hips, though as he said 'rough', he smashed his hips roughly against John's, "— fuck."

John almost uttered out an insult, but his voice was cut, the buzzing against his cock growing more intense as Jim turned it up a couple notches, from four to six. He panted as he roughly ground his hips against Jim's, fingers clawing at the air as he moaned. He arched and writhed, pulling at his restraints more as Jim thrusted. Each jab, the head of his cock punched against the doctor's prostate, which would result in a louder moan each time.

"Scream for me, slut," Jim snarled as he fucked the writhing man beneath him. John obliged, his cries turning into screams with each brutal thrust.

"I-I hate you!" He snarled, earning a lash across the chest with that damn flogger.

"I know."

He was going to be sore. He knew it. All the beating.

"I hate you," he uttered as he bucked his hips. This time, a crop whapped against his face painfully, leather biting his skin.

"The feeling is more than mutual."

Up another two notches, the clit tickler was now at eight out of ten. John had no idea how long he could last. His eyes rolled even under their lids, his brow furrowing. He started drooling even, his mind fogging. That familiar coil started tightening in his abdomen. Oh he was so fucking close…

"Fuck… Fuck… Fuck…" John muttered, though saying it was barely understandable was an understatement. His eyes rolled and his hips roughly ground against Jim's.

"Come like a good little slut," Jim hissed as he dug his nails into the blogger's hips. One hand moved just long enough to crank the vibrating bullet to it's max power, John letting out a sharp scream. It was like the command had pulled it out of the former militant, his body tightening as come jetted out, spattering against dry wax and skin.

Jim's hips continued to crush against John's, his eyes closed tightly as he fucked him ruthlessly. He licked his upper lip slowly, eyes rolling a bit as he slammed into that unrelenting tightness. Regardless of any complaint John would bare, Jim released inside, though he continued to thrust, come oozing out around his prick. John's teeth snapped, his eyes forced shut as he rode out Jim's orgasm.

Jim, of course, took any used toys and threw them in a bucket to be cleaned. He wiped himself clean and redid his trousers, whistling softly. Two men and a woman entered the room, all three bearing firearms. If John was going to do anything, they'd get him before he could. Jim took the rest of the toys he'd taken out but didn't use and put them back into their drawer. Last, of course, he let John's wrists and legs free, the doctor letting out a soft groan in appreciation.

"I hate you so fucking much," he breathed, brows knitted, exhausted eyes glaring.

"And I, you. Until next time, Johnny."

With that, he rose the bucket and stepped out, flicking his wrist to the three who had entered to keep an eye on John, "escort him to his precious Sherlock Holmes when he is decent."

John shuddered slightly. It felt like the vibrator was still against his cock. He let out a sigh as he cleaned himself up, made himself decent and looked up at the three.


End file.
